


Cerulean Cornflowers

by Vexicle



Series: More, Without Lore [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Religion, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 16:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13744971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexicle/pseuds/Vexicle
Summary: It's then that she realises how many different shades of blue there are.





	Cerulean Cornflowers

Leigh and her parents show up at 6pm sharp at the address Aspen sent her. They are certainly a sight, the redheaded trio, turning curious onlookers’ heads. Leigh looks on in awe at the rather large one-storey house that greets her, with architecture that seems pulled right out of the countryside. They cross the long brick-laden path from the road to Aspen’s home. Her parents look at her meaningfully, and she knocks on the door, calling out, “Aspen, you in there, mate?”

“Okay. I'm coming,” comes the reply. Leigh is stunned at how that voice, usually so full of snark and banter, just sounds so drained. It's just as though he's given up, but on what, Leigh isn't clear on.

The wooden door swings open with a flourish and Leigh is lucky she has had just enough time to duck out of the way. What greets her is a young-looking woman with sharp features, dark hair tied high and beaming widely. “Ah, yes,” she says in an English accent, nodding towards her. “Mr and Mrs Hall, right? Hello, Leigh! I remember you, how are you doing today?”

Aspen comes trotting out, then. Her movements are a little stiff, a little unnatural. The soft pink blouse and denim skirt that clings to her willowy build makes him look so… utterly demure. The messy ponytail she usually wears has been abandoned in favour of a long cascading brown wave down Aspen's back. _She's so pretty,_ Leigh thinks enviously, but she halts herself when she realises that that Aspen doesn't exactly look _happy_ with his current situation.

The redhead shakes her head to clear it. _That's a boy, Leigh, no matter how much he doesn't look like one. Stop it._

“Yes, that's Leigh, that's her parents. Thanks for coming,” the brunet mutters mutinously. “I'll… be off now, thanks.”

Her mother lowers her head to press her lips against Aspen’s forehead, but he doesn't respond, and as Leigh looks closer, he seems to be subtly recoiling from the contact.

“Goodbye,” Aspen says with barely disguised annoyance. He walks up to Leigh and her parents and bows respectfully to them. Stifling her surprise, she opts to fall into step next to Aspen. The redhead wants to ease his unusual tension, but she's not quite sure what to do. Was Aspen the kind of person to even desire kind words? Did he want solitude instead?

Shuffling along the long, stretching path, she glances over at Aspen’s hunched back. He hasn't said anything, so Leigh leaves him be. The sunlight casts an orange glow on all of them, but Aspen just looks like he would rather be one with the shade, so small and haunched amidst her family.

Aspen doesn't talk the whole journey, simply nodding and smiling at what Leigh’s chatty father has to say. Leigh gets the feeling that it's hollow, all of it.

.

“How's the church going for you, Aspen?” Leigh says, trying to smile. Yet, on the inside she feels a growing annoyance with her kind-of sort-of friend, who's been squirming and writhing out of absolute boredom from the minute he even stepped inside. Leigh understands he might not share her views, but there comes a line where his behaviour crosses into outright disrespect.

Leigh wants to tell Aspen off for making such a big deal about an outfit, but something tells Leigh it's not _just that_ , so she doesn't speak. She doesn't understand, so it's probably not her place to speak. Leigh reminds herself that she ought to be slow to anger, quick to forgive. That's what the priests said, and she’s abided by the rules of the Bible her whole life. It's been there, ever since she was a tiny baby and her mother sat her down at bedtime, telling her all about this wonderful being in the universe. She aspired to follow ever since then, doing her best to be kind, trustworthy, forgiving.

_No way, Aspen couldn't have been sent to challenge my devotion, could he?_ Leigh thinks, half in amusement, half in alarm. _Does God make mistakes?_ she wonders, peeking over at the small shape that's fidgeting with her hair, glaring at her reflection in the tiles. _Did God make Aspen that way on purpose?_

The brunet is slumped lazily over the wooden cushioned seats that are arranged in a circle. Of course he sought out the quietest place he could find. There's no one here in the foyer, they've all gone to feast upon the buffet outside. He pats the seat next to him, and Leigh takes the invitation. Aspen regards her with curious blue eyes. “You try,” he states simply.

“...what?”

Aspen smiles, and though it doesn't reach his eyes it seems to be the most realistic one Leigh’s ever seen him wear. He looks tired, haggard even. If Leigh squints hard enough, she can possibly detect dread, and is that a sprinkling of fear? She thinks that the Aspen she knows wouldn't know fear if it hit him right in the eye, but as she recounts the past year with her junior, she realises she knows almost nothing about the real Aspen. His hobbies, his dreams, nor even his favourite colour. Aspen is a grouch, and was born female... and that's all Leigh knows, really.

“You're a shining paladin,” Aspen says, with actual respect in his voice. “My mother could stand to learn from you,” he says, with little respect in his voice.

“Can you explain? Or... not,” she says, biting her lip, realising that Aspen might not want nosy seniors poking around his private business. “I mean, whatever you want, if it makes you comfortable.”

“I don't like my mother,” he says with conviction, though his voice comes out small. Leigh realises, for the first time, Aspen has been caught unprepared.

“That much is obvious,” Leigh replies cautiously. Honestly, even back at the Christmas party, she'd picked up on the strange tension between the two. Her father, a wise, kindly, bearded man, had pulled her aside at the party to ask, “Is that child alright?”, to which she had shrugged apologetically.

“I have never seen such utter loathing in even an _adult’s_ eyes before,” was the explanation.

Now, Aspen’s blue eyes drill a hole right through Leigh’s soul. She flinches and shuffles away from him. “Why do you hang out with me?” Aspen asks. Not even accusing, just... tired. “It's because I'm friends with Kyler, right?”

Where has this come from all of a sudden? “Well -” Leigh starts.

“You know we don't have to all be friends, right?”

Leigh kind of just stares and stares and stares. “W-what? I? What?”

“You know, I'm aware of the kind of bull - I mean lessons - that's taught in Sunday school, but here's a revolutionary concept for you, mate: you don't need to tolerate an asshole if you see one.”

“I-I,” Leigh stutters. She feels rather like a fish being deprived of water. “What? Huh? Can we start at the beginning?”

Aspen’s eyes hover over his tightly clasped hands. “Leigh, do you talk to me only because you feel sorry for me?” His gaze hardens. “I won't tolerate that, for the benefit of us both.”

The rate at which Aspen’s brain goes has Leigh’s head spinning. He’s scrambling ahead way too fast and leaving little time for her to process any of it. The only thing she can conclude is somehow, his parent may have instilled this sudden change. Aspen and _lonely_ , Aspen and _vulnerable_ are meanings she would not have expected to go together at all.

He's still talking. “I know you don't get it, or me in general, but I can see you struggle.” He's staring at her again, defiantly, eye to eye. Leigh notes that his eyes are a darker blue than she's used to. If she exists as the waves near the coastline, Aspen is the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. “Look, like, just because I am what I am doesn't mean I'm all sunshines and rainbows. You have no obligation to like me,” he says.

Leigh gets it. This is Aspen’s unique way of caring; just filtered so much through his own jade-coloured lenses that it's almost incomprehensible.

“I mean, I'm glad you seem self aware, but I don't know. I do... honestly want to talk to you.” Leigh dares to take a chance to drape her thick arms around Aspen’s lithe body, and to her surprise he actually lets her. “You've got a mean bark, alright. I highly doubt you'd bite, though.” Leigh beams.

“And I suppose I'm glad you're at least trying to understand.”

“Of course. It's what we do.” _Practice love and tolerance for everyone._ She points outside the large glass windows. “Look out there, Aspen. What's your favourite colour?” _All suffering has a reason behind it. There's no way Aspen’s a mistake! ___

__Aspen seems to be as stiff as a frozen statue. “No one’s ever asked me that before,” he says quietly._ _

__Leigh lets go of him, leaning closer. “Not even Kyler?”_ _

That elicits a chuckle from the gruff brunet. “He just assumed it was blue. He was right, of course. Kyler is a people person. A _real_ one.” She picks up on the surprising tact Aspen shows today - so he _can_ not be a total prat. Maybe even Aspen has self-control. He doesn't disturb the peace of the temple, and that's better than what Leigh expected of him, in all honesty. 

__“Blue is a great colour, don't you agree?” Aspen gets off his seat now. The flats he wears make a steady clack-clack sound across the tiles. It's followed by hasty sounds of sandals smacking together. Aspen presses his hands to the glass, staring at the night outside._ _

__“They are having a party,” he states._ _

__“Indeed,” Leigh replies._ _

__“I hate parties.”_ _

__“I apologise, but I simply must inform you that you possess the wrong opinion.”_ _

__“Bloody wanker,” Aspen says. “Would you say the night is purple or black?”_ _

__“I'm not sure, but it's beautiful, whichever one. I love the deep blue of the night,” Leigh states as she gazes outside in wonder._ _

__“I much prefer the lighter shades of blue in the morning when dawn breaks.” Aspen pulls away before his breath can fog up the glass. “Either way, your God is amazing.”_ _

__Leigh is taken aback, but then she nods in understanding. “So are you.”_ _

__Leigh isn't sure whether Aspen’s mouth twitches due to the cheers downstairs, or her comment. “Comparing me to God, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus Christ? You blaspheme,” he quips, shaking his head in amusement._ _

__“I don't understand the gender thing, but I don't see sin in it either. But I understand it causes you pain, and it's cool you can stand it like that. Pain happens for a reason, doesn't it?”_ _

__A shadow falls across his pale face. Aspen looks too thin, too angular. “If it does, why does my mom exist?”_ _

__“I'm not sure what she did, but it's fine if you don't tell me.” Leigh shrugs. “It made you strong.”_ _

__“...are you telling me all parents should be like mine, just because it makes children _strong _?”___ _

___Leigh realises she screwed up the same second she hears the low, tranquil, genuine anger in Aspen’s voice. It's not the theatrical swearings and angry utterances she associates so strongly with him, and that somehow makes it even worse. She moves to apologise, but Aspen reaches up just to slap a hand to her mouth. “No, stop. I get you didn't mean it. It's just no one deserves it. It's just… don't.” He releases her. “Okay?”_ _ _

___“Okay,” Leigh whispers, wiping at her lips. She feels guilt, it's guilt running down her cheeks. Not only that, but a strange kind of bafflement. Maybe… maybe the priests don't always know what’s right to say. Aspen doesnt move, staring at the black veil covering the sky. This boy, Leigh concludes, is challenging everything she ever knew._ _ _

_My Lord, my Father in Heaven. What should I do?_

__

__._ _

__It's a quiet drive back to Aspen’s place, as neither teen speaks to each other. The apprehension is just starting to get to Leigh when Aspen quietly mutters, “She isn't always like that.”_ _

__Leigh glances down at him, the stoniness of his expression hiding a storm, she's sure. “She… she talks, she laughs, she gives me a home,” Aspen explains. “Sometimes, she's like that. Sometimes, she isn't.” He shakes his head. “I wish I could hate her more.”_ _

__Leigh speaks cautiously. “That's a dangerous wish, Aspen.”_ _

__The moonlight reflects off the silver hood of the car as it stops at the pathway to Aspen’s house. Yellow light floods from inside the house through the open front door. He unbuckles his belt slowly, fumbling around, uncharacteristically slowly. Without precision, he opens the door and steps outside. The wind sends ripples through his thin blouse. Still, he hesitates to return to the warmth of his home._ _

__“I’m glad your God blessed you with your family.” Surprising Leigh, he motions to the seats in front. “They seem wonderful.” Louder, he thanks Leigh’s parents before slamming the door shut. He looks back once and waves._ _

__“Nicole, what do you think of that kid?” Leigh’s father asks in his gruff tone._ _

__“We can probably make some more accommodations for our next trip.” Her mother turns around to face Leigh, red strands spilling down her face. “What do you think, dear?”_ _

__Leigh watches the small shale shadow disappear in the distance. “I think we both need it,” she replies waveringly._ _


End file.
